


The Colours of Trust

by Anonymous



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Broken Bones, Gen, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Medical BS, Pre-NCIS: Los Angeles, Undercover, Whump, Whump Exchange, beaten, concussion, nothing graphic, procedure bs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 15:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14897106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When an undercover operation takes a turn for the worse, Deeks must face the fallout. Will he accept the unexpected offer of help?





	The Colours of Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whumpadoodle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whumpadoodle/gifts).



> This is my work for the whump exchange. I hope I was able to induce some whumpy butterflies and that I didn't disappoint.

The auction was in full swing. He treaded through the masses carefully, his face impassive as he let his gaze travel over the attendants. The hall was filled with laughter and anticipation, everyone was focused on the well-lit stage. The thought made Deeks’ stomach churn, but he kept it to himself. They needed to go through with tonight. His teeth clenched together before he was able to relax again, and his eyes fell on Antonio. The other man watched him with a smug expression and Deeks shot him a grin of his own, not feeling the emotions behind it, before turning away.

A young woman was dragged onto the stage, her eyes wide and anxious. Deeks’ shoulder tensed and he started to walk again as the voices of the crowd died down, only a hushed whisper in between the announcements of the current bid.

Deeks felt disgusted and helpless at the struggle on stage. The auction had almost been his undoing. It wasn’t the first one he had to attend to, but the first where he had had enough power to get to know the ‘merchandise’ beforehand. He had been working for Antonio for months, slowly climbing his way up the ladder, collecting all the evidence he could. By now he had an extensive list of affiliations of the human trafficking ring, but today’s event promised to reveal some of the bigger players and they couldn’t miss that opportunity. He had fought with his handler, Ava, trying to end the assignment before today, but he was shot down. They had told him he was too close, that they needed the evidence and that he could, under no circumstances, blow his cover.

Deeks took a deep breath.

A strong hand landed on his shoulder and he struggled not to flinch as he was ripped from his too deep thoughts. He looked up into the smiling face of Antonio.

“Matthew,” he said with warmth in his voice, “Are you enjoying yourself? It is a big day for our trade, no?”

The hand didn’t leave his shoulder, on the contrary, the arm tightened around him, pulling him into a hug.

Deeks forced himself to relax and laughed, pushing the other away with a grin. “I would enjoy myself more if I didn’t have to babysit the merch,” his eyes glittered with humour, proving his words wrong.

“True, true, here, let’s drink to a successful evening, before you go back.” Antonio let go of him, turning around and grabbing two glasses from the tray a waitress was carrying around.  He handed over the glass, a proud smile on his face.

Their glasses clinked together softly. “To many more,” Deeks said, raising his glass, before taking a sip. He was disgusted with himself, but the hand clapping him jovially on his back and the accompanying laugh, anchored him in the here and now.

“Yes, to many more! We have important guests tonight. I would have introduced you, but you were so busy.”

“Maybe my boss will let me have some fun later.” Deeks replied distractedly. His eyes were once more roaming over the guests, trying to memorize the faces. Some of them he knew, having been introduced to them on other occasions, others he knew from the files Ava had provided, but some he had never seen before.

His attention turned back to Antonio who had followed his gaze, a knowing smirk on his lips. “I am sure that can be arranged. Now do your job, I will see you later.” With these words he walked off, leaving Deeks behind. He watched him go, slowly sipping his drink, before setting it down on another tray, still half full.

The scene on the stage had changed, another woman in the spotlight. Deeks knew her name, had talked to her before. Their eyes met, desperation clear in her gaze, but all he could do was stare back dispassionately. Her face fell, anger clear in her posture.

With a last glance back, he left the big hall. Relief flooding through him when the big doors closed, cutting him off from the excitement and loose atmosphere, muting the sounds to an indistinguishable humming.

He made his way down the hallway, his shoulders straightening and his features adopting a scowl the closer he got to the door. The guard let him through without a word. They had no love for each other and his reputation to be angered easily preceded him through the lower ranks.

He had made his name with brute force and a hot temper, trying to toe the invisible line between the need to get Antonio’s attention and his own conscience. As an undercover cop he had to bury his feelings deep down, holding them close to his heart, with hands over eyes and ears. Slipping into another persona helped him keep himself detached from everything without breaking under pressure of the task.

As soon as the door closed behind him, his demeanour changed. He easily sauntered down the steps to the basement, hands in his pockets already feeling out the small chocolates he had brought with him. His eyes wandered over the various cells, some of them already empty. But instead of letting the thought drag him down, he plastered a small smile on his face and took the last few steps.

Quiet shuffling filled the room, as anxious bodies slowly came to the front of their cells, leaving the treacherous safety of the darker cell corners. Hands grabbed the bars and wary gazes landed on him. Most of the prisoners were thin, but clean and healthy. It had been a slippery slope to convince Antonio to put more care into his merchandise without appearing too eager or suspicious. But he had managed.

Deeks stepped closer with an internal sigh.

“Evening ladies,” he watched them with a calculating glance, smirking lightly. “I brought you something worthy of the occasion.”

In hindsight it had been much harder to uphold his persona in front of the prisoners. He couldn’t blow his own cover and let them see how hard it was for him to treat them the way he did, and the brash and violent personality of Matthew wasn’t easily trusted. But they had come to an uneasy truce where they trusted him enough not to hurt them.

He pulled the chocolates out of his pockets, holding them up so they could see them. The yearning, but distrustful gazes made his heart break, while he forced a small chuckle out.

“I knew you would be interested,” he said, holding one out to the woman in front of him.

She eyed him skeptically, but slowly stretched her hand through the bars, fingers shaking as she hovered over the offer, uncertain. “What do you want in return?”

He laughed. “How about that pretty smile of yours?”

She hesitated for another moment, before deciding that the chocolate was worth the price and grabbed it quickly before he decided differently. Her hand retreated behind the bars and she smiled nervously. He gave her one in return.

He was in the middle of coaxing the newest one to take the chocolate, pushing his hand tentatively through the bars, when the door at the top of the stairs was pushed open. A wild mixture of sounds filtered through the now open space.

Deeks still had his hand between the bars, when he turned around, expecting someone to fetch the next girl. Instead he was met with the barrel of an assault rifle pointed at him. His hands automatically went for his own gun, while his eyes flickered to the person behind it, eyes widening in surprise for the fraction of a second. The chocolates fell to the floor forgotten.

“L.A.P.D., don’t even think about it. Hands where I can see them!” Someone demanded angrily, and he slowly raised his hands, taking in the men walking down the steps. This was a police raid. Deeks frowned in confusion. Had they decided differently after Deeks had argued vehemently that they had enough information? It didn’t make any sense and he didn’t recognize any of the men stomping down the stairs.

He started to say something but was interrupted immediately.

“Shut up. Turn around, legs apart.” Anger was radiating off the guy and before Deeks could open his mouth for another inquiry, they were in his personal space and the end of the rifle connected hard with his cheek, making him stumble into the bars behind him. Pain blossomed behind his eyes and he had to blink away the stars.

Hands grabbed him, forcing him around unceremoniously. His legs were kicked apart, and his head was rammed into the bars. A groan escaped him.

“No need to be so violent,” he hissed, squirming in the tight grip, as someone patted him down, taking his gun.  

“Sure, pal.” The grip in his hair became painful and a heavy feeling settled in Deeks’ stomach, his eyes frantically roaming over the cell in front of him. The young woman had retreated to the back of the cell, watching the scene anxiously, hope blossoming in her eyes. They clearly didn’t know who he was. This wasn’t part of his op and they thought he was the criminal he pretended to be.

“Alright, alright. Shit. I’m not resisting.” He pressed out between gritted teeth, but the grip wasn’t loosening. His hands were still up, as he tried to stay as non-threatening as possible.

“Did you hear him say he planned on resisting too?” Someone to his side said. Deeks shoulders tensed. Shit.

“Yeah, I think I did. Pretty dumb to tell us about it. You would think criminals were smarter than that.”

The hit to his kidneys came out of the blue. Pain exploded all over his back and his hands tightened involuntarily into the bars.  The hand in his hair didn't leave and he felt the man tensing behind him for the next punch. The anger radiating off the others was almost palpable.

Deeks’ thoughts were a scrambled mess. If he broke his cover he could jeopardize everything he had worked for in the last few months. It would be better if he just let himself be arrested, but when his head hit the bars once more and a groan escaped him, his resolution wavered.

“Stop! My name is Marty Deeks, I’m with the L.A.P.D.,” he said desperately, but it only earned him a laugh and a moment later another hit pressed all the air out of his lungs. The realization that they wouldn’t even give him the benefit of the doubt had his thoughts reeling. This was not happening. He tried to turn around, tried to protect himself against the abuse, but he was slammed back against the bars forcefully.

As far as he could tell it was only two of the four people engaging in the beating, the others looked away purposefully. But they wouldn’t be any help either.

“We’re not done yet, liar,” someone snarled into his ear, pressing against him and leaving no room to move. His ears were ringing, and he felt warm blood trailing down his temple. Deeks gritted his teeth, before a laugh escaped him. He had survived all this months under deep cover only to be met with his own people’s anger at something he was angry about himself.

Suddenly someone grabbed his arms, forcing them behind his back without care and relief flooded through him, at the feeling of cold steel fastening around his wrists. It was short-lived, however, when he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and flung around. The force of it let him stumble a few steps, before he lost his balance and hit the ground.

With his hands bound, he desperately tried to break his fall with his shoulder, instead of his face.

They didn’t give him much time to recover. A boot hit his midsection with force, knocking the air out of his lungs again. Deeks tried to roll to his knees, tried getting to his feet again and into a better position, but instead he was met with another boot to his stomach, making him fall again.

“I think that’s enough,” one of the others said, while Deek tried to get his breath back under control.

“Fine.” The disgruntled voice didn’t sound very reassuring and Deeks tensed in anticipation.

”You…”, a boot connected with his ribs and he felt it break, “…are…”, a second boot joined the first. “…under arrest. You have the right to remain silent and anything you say may be used against you in a court.”

Deeks gasped for air, grimacing against the pain and tried to curl around his midsection, shielding it against the force, leaving his back exposed. Each word of the Miranda Warning was emphasized with another kick, leaving him coughing and groaning on the floor.

“You have the right to have an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court.”

Something cracked under the force of the last kick and he found himself yelling hoarsely into the ground. White stars danced in front of his vision, as he rolled onto his knees, forehead leaning against the cold concrete floor, to escape the pain. His breath came in broken huffs and he bit his lip against the whimper.

Shit.

“Shit.” Someone echoed his thought. “Are you out of your mind.”

“Shut up.”

Deeks didn’t listen. Pain radiated from his left arm, nausea rolled over him. For a moment all he could hear were his frantic breaths. When he lifted his shoulders off the ground, looking up into the angry faces of his fellow officers, he was met with disgust.

“We’ll make sure you never touch a single woman again,” someone growled at him and for the second time this evening the end of the rifle connected with his head.   He crumpled like paper and hit the ground hard.

Everything after that became a blur.

They dragged him upright and he stumbled along, letting himself be led away. He didn’t know how the raid had worked out, who was in custody and who wasn’t. His thoughts were too scattered to make much sense of what he was seeing. Dark spots were dancing around the edges of his vision and he tried his hardest not to pass out. He almost didn’t make it.

They didn’t offer him medical assistance, they didn’t even put him into a cell with all the other prisoners, instead they led him into an interview room and pushed him down into one of the uncomfortable chairs.

They uncuffed his hands and he gagged against the pain radiating from his broken arm, losing the battle against the nausea, when they unceremoniously dragged his arms to the front to chain him to the table. Without a second thought he leaned to the side, throwing up onto someone’s shoes. He panted heavily, hanging in the restraints, trying not to pass out on top of it. Someone pushed him back into a sitting position, with a disgusted sound.

“Damn, he needs a doctor.”

“No, let him stew in his own misery for a bit. He brought that upon himself when he chose that career path. Fucking disgusting.”

A door closed and opened again. Someone was cleaning up his mess, but Deeks didn’t listen. His head tilted forward, and he slowly and carefully put it down on the table, closing his eyes. What a clusterfuck. He hoped they had at least arrested Antonio. He hadn’t seen him on their way over to the precinct, but then again, he hadn’t really been coherent. Anger and frustration coursed through his veins, only overshadowed by the pain pulsing through every part of his body.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

There was no use in contemplating what this meant for his assignment and how much damage was done, Deeks wouldn’t know until someone realized their mistake. He snorted at that thought, only to groan a moment later when the movement jostled his whole body.

He didn’t know how much time went by, when the door opened again, and he lifted his head slowly. Someone strode into the room and Deeks had to blink blearily against the spots in his vision, trying to get rid of the blurriness.

“Did you arrest Antonio?” He asked, without giving the other the opportunity to speak, his eyes searching the man in front of him for clues.

The detective stepped into the room, a chair scraped over the floor, the sound sending painful pulses through his head and he grimaced but met the other’s eyes head on.

“Who?” A folder was opened, as the other sat down. It was like a slap to the face.

Deeks’ anger returned, momentarily overshadowing the pain. “Antonio Thompson! Shit, you just busted my undercover operation, that I’ve been working on for months, and you have no clue.” He forced out through gritted teeth, ignoring the hysterical laughter bubbling up in his chest. “And as charming as your officers were after I introduced myself, I would really appreciate for you to confirm my identity and let me sort out the mess you just created.”

He watched the other with a scowl, showing more of Matthew than of Marty, but he really didn’t care at the moment. He was exhausted.

“And what identity is that?” A sceptical undertone swung with the question, but at least they were listening now. The thought made him scowl even more for a moment, before he forced himself to reply.

“Marty Deeks, L.A.P.D., and bring me a phone, would you?” He plastered a forced grin onto his lips, not even realizing that his split lip started to bleed again at the movement. The grin fell off his face as soon as the other left the room and Deeks let his head fall back onto the table.

“Ow.” He grimaced and let out a long breath, swallowing hard against the pain in his chest. Thinking hurt, breathing hurt, there was pain everywhere and it was hard to single out the individual sources over the loud rushing in his ears. It took him a few minutes of shallow breathing to gather his thoughts and to find the most pressing points of pain. He was sure he had a concussion and a busted rib on top of his broken arm and for a while he just sat there, breathing and waiting for the detective to return.

When the door opened again the bustling sounds and atmosphere had a completely different character to it. He lifted his head and squinted against the lights.

“Seems like your story checks out.”

For a moment all Deeks could do was gape at the other, before giving into the urge to roll his eyes. “Great, I love happy endings,” he snarked, tensing when the other undid his handcuffs carefully. It still took all the control he had not to throw up again. He swallowed several times and blinked against his swimming vision, bringing his arm close to his chest.

A phone was placed in front of him and he carefully took it with his right hand, fumbling with the device, before finding the right buttons to make a call. He listened to it ring several times, all the while scrutinizing the man in front of him. He didn’t look very happy either.

The line clicked.

“Hey Ava, it’s Deeks. I got busted by the not so friendly neighbourhood officer.” He took a deep breath, regretting it immediately, when a cough threatened to destroy his hard-won almost-pain-free peace. “I don’t know. Can you meet me at the hospital?” A snort escaped him, and he handed the phone to the detective in front of him. “She’ll rip your head off,” he muttered.

Deeks only listened with half an ear, while he slowly sank deeper into his chair, closing his eyes. He felt terrible and disconnected. The sounds swimming in and out, starting to become a distorted mess. He felt unanchored and floating, his breathing felt more laboured as the room started spinning around him, even with his eyes closed. He didn’t hear the clattering of the detectives chair, nor did he feel the hands that caught him as he suddenly tilted to the side, threatening to fall off his chair. Unconsciousness claimed him.

\---

He woke to the steady beeping of a heart monitor and it took him a few tries before  he was able to open his eyes again. Deeks blinked in confusion against the stark white room, letting his gaze travel along, stopping at the familiar figure of his handler.

“Hey,” he croaked, coughing slightly against the dryness in his throat. His thoughts were sluggish, as if they had been wrapped up in cotton wool. He was floating.

“Deeks! Thank god you’re awake.” Ava got out of her chair, stepping closer to the hospital bed.

“How long was I out?” He let his eyes wander over the room again, confusion clear in his gaze. It was grey outside; maybe early morning and the usual bustling sounds of busy hospital hallways were missing. He lifted his broken arm, eyes trailing over the white cast, before he met Ava’s eyes again with a sigh.

“A few hours, not too long,” she replied, watching him with worry.

“What a mess. Did they get Antonio?” She looked away for a second, shaking her head, before looking back up, her eyes filled with anger and determination.

“No, they screwed it up. He got away, but we got Hernandez and Boyd.” She got up agitatedly and started pacing the room. “Some idiot tipped them off and without checking they just bulldozed over our operation. I am so mad right now.” She started to wave with her arms, gesticulating and radiating frustration and anger.

Deeks watched her. The drugs keeping him from being able to form a proper reaction, but he knew, once they wore off, he would be pissed.

“Is my cover blown,” he asked quietly, and Ava stopped in her tracks. She watched him calculatingly.

“No, it is probably still intact, as far as I know,” she said in a tentative tone, narrowing her eyes, when she realized what he was implying. “No, Deeks. No! Have you looked in the mirror? They put you on the good drugs. Do you know what that means? The good drugs!” She started to rant again.

“Yeah, no kidding, someone beat me up during a mild case of self-righteousness,” he replied with a grin, but the joking tone he was aiming for fell short.

“Exactly! I am going to raise hell and no, you’re not going to go back. You don’t even know where Thompson has run off to,” she stabbed her finger at his chest, grimacing guiltily when she accidently hit the bandage.

“We can’t just leave it like that.”

“Deeks, you have a concussion, two broken ribs, a busted arm and god knows how many bruises. Good drugs!” She huffed out a breath, knowing exactly how he felt.

“Ava, I knew those girls!” His desperation was almost palpable, only dulled by the exhaustion still clear in his features.

“I know…Crap.” She dragged her hand through her long hair and nearly jumped a foot into the air at the knock on his door. A small lady in a suit was smiling at them.

“Good morning, Mister Deeks, Miss Green. My name is Henrietta Lang and I have an offer to make,” she said, stepping into the room, flashing her badge.  

“Yeah, and what’s that?” Deeks asked hesitantly, squinting at the badge.  

“How would you feel about completing that assignment with a highly professional team at your back?”

“And what do you have, that we don’t, Mrs. Lang?” He still didn’t know what exactly had gone wrong and who had screwed up his operation, but his trust was currently non-existent. He didn’t know the lady in his hospital room, nor did he know the organisation she worked for.

“Call me Hetty. We have resources, Mister Deeks, resources…and friendly non-violent neighbourhood agents.”

He narrowed his eyes, taking in her confident stance and her serious gaze. She obviously had ears everywhere. Mistrust flickered through his eyes.

“And we didn’t lose track of Thompson.”

His eyes widened a fraction, before relief and determination took over. This might be his only chance to clean up the mess someone else made. Deeks bit his lip, hissing slightly when he tasted the metallic tang of blood. His eyes landed on Ava, her posture, like his, spoke of mistrust and scepticism.

“What makes you think that he is in any condition to keep going,” she finally spoke up, her eyes flickering shortly over Deeks form, before looking Hetty up and down. Before she could say anything Deeks forced himself to sit up straighter.

“I’m in,” his posture was serious and even though he was drugged to the gills he tried to meet their eyes straight on.

“Deek…” Ava tried to protest.

“No, I want to bring him down. I want to see him fall, I didn’t work months and months on this just to have someone screw it up in the end.” He was determined, and it became clear that he wouldn’t be swayed.

Hetty smiled.

After that, Deeks buried his mistrust. He wanted to finish this mission first and foremost, everything else had to wait. He kept himself from actively thinking about what had happened and concentrated on the information Hetty provided. They came up with few ideas, confident in the fact that the NCIS had their eyes on Antonio.

When Deeks’ eyes started to droop every few seconds and his speech became slurred, they bid their farewell. He was supposed to meet the team the next day and Hetty reassured him that they would have a plan by that time. She told him to trust them and to rest.

Deeks fell asleep with those words in mind.

When he woke it was dark outside and he felt the dull edge of pain coursing through his body, telling him that the drugs were slowly wearing off. But that wasn’t what had woken him.

He squinted through the darkness, eyes landing on a dark figure standing a few feet away, staring back at him.

“They sure did a number on you, my friend, no?”

The words made Deek’s blood run cold. He froze in his attempt to sit up, his thoughts starting to race at the same speed his heart exploded in his chest and for a split second Deeks was glad they had disabled the heart monitor earlier. He swallowed thickly, running through his options. This was not anticipated. Why would he come back?

“Antonio…,” he voiced tentatively. “Why are you here? They’re going to arrest you.” He aimed for concern, trying to cover his fraying nerves. He started to move again, sitting up completely, while Antonio stepped closer.

“Yes, we’re going to leave the city before that. Come on, Matthew.” He gestured Deeks to get up, placing a duffle bag on his bed and pulling clothes out.

Deeks confusion grew, his thoughts tumbling through his mind, trying to find a solution. He couldn’t say no to Antonio without appearing suspicious, but following him now, was a bad idea. Didn’t Hetty say they had eyes on him? He cursed inwardly.

He could do this.

“You’re crazy,” he said. “But thanks.” Matthew wouldn’t hesitate. He would be surprised that Antonio had come back for him, just as Deeks had, only for other reasons. Matthew didn’t expect to be valued so deeply, to warrant a rescue. Antonio grinned at him.

Deeks took the offered hoodie and sweatpants, pulling them on painfully slow. His head was spinning already and for the first time today he started to doubt his ability to see this through. But if he was honest with himself. He had no other choice now. He groaned and swayed on his feet when he stood up, his good arm immediately going to his head, pressing the palm of his hand against his eyes.

The other grabbed his arm to steady him and together they made it out of the hospital. The hallways were empty, and Antonio clearly knew where to go. Deeks wondered what Antonio had done to the guard in front of his door, but he was too preoccupied with setting one foot in front of the other to follow up on that train of thought. God, this was a bad idea.

He sank deeper into the seat, his head slumping against the window when Antonio started the car. He pressed his good arm around his ribs, while simultaneously trying to avoid bumping his cast into anything at all.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

As the drugs wore off Deeks caught himself more than once staring into space, thinking of nothing. His head was swimming and he had to breathe through the pain. He really needed to come up with a plan, but most of it depended on where they ended up and what resources he would have at hand. He watched his own pale reflection in the window for a moment, taking in his ghostly appearance. It looked more than grim at the moment.

Deeks looked up when the car slowed down, squinting through the darkness. They were at the harbour he realized only a moment later and his confusion grew. In all his time working for Antonio he never once had mentioned owning a ship.

“We’re meeting someone first, I have to liquidize some of my assets. Come on.” Antonio gestured for Deeks to get out and follow him.

Deeks thoughts were running again. Who were they going to meet? He tried to rouse himself enough to be alert and able to seize an opportunity should it present itself. He doubted that the others would be able to find him again if they left on a boat, but sooner or later he would be able to get his hands on a phone and contact them.

He followed Antonio down the pier at his own pace. He forcefully straightened up, relaxing his arms and shoulders to appear less vulnerable than he felt. It was already unfortunate that he was pale and sweaty, clearly betraying his firm steps.

They didn’t have to wait for long and three men emerged from the darkness, clad in business suits just as Antonio. Deeks had never seen them before, but Antonio’s posture told him that these were the individuals they were expecting.

“Antonio, I am so glad to see you and that you reached out to me after that disastrous event yesterday.” The newcomer said, greeting the other with a hug and a kiss. His eyes flitted over Deeks silent form, a smile gracing his lips. “Oh my, your man looks worse for wear, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, I fear they didn’t appreciate our trade very much. Not everybody has such a fine taste, no?” Antonio laughed, turning towards Deeks, who started to feel uncomfortable under their combined gaze. He watched the interaction closely, unsure what was happening and what kind of deal Antonio had just made.

“I am sure,” the other said, lifting a suitcase and presenting it to Antonio. “Here is what we talked about. That should cover enough.”

As soon as Antonio grabbed the case with a smirk, the goons stepped forward, grabbing Deeks’ arms. His head snapped up, eyes widening in surprise, before betrayal painted his features.

“Wait…,” Deeks asked in confusion and for the first time in the last few hours fear gripped his heart tightly. “Antonio?” For a moment he still tried to uphold his cover, but when his desperate struggle was met with an indifferent stare, realization hit him like a wave of cold water. His cover had been blown some while ago.

“My dear friend, in all your eagerness to succeed, you are too trustworthy.” Antonio stepped closer, softly caressing Deeks’ cheek with his hand, the other slowly finding his broken ribs. There was a sadness hidden underneath the cold eyes. “But then again, that is a fault we both must face, no?” He gently patted his bruised face, while Deeks stood frozen in front of him. “I remember it like it was only yesterday. You were desperate for my attention, so raw and violent. It worked, no? I really liked you.” His hand wandered to Deeks’ neck, gripping his hair tightly and threateningly, pulling his head back. His other hand pressed down on Deeks’ ribs without warning, making him yowl in pain. Deeks gritted his teeth, his breaths coming in harsh bursts, while he met Antonio’s angry stare. “But Marty Deeks of the L.A.P.D. is probably a very different person.” Antonio smiled sadly, his hand never leaving his ribs. “Farewell, Matthew.” With those words he turned around, leaving Deeks to his own fate.

He stared after him for a second, dumbstruck, before he blew every precaution to the wind. He started to struggle more seriously against the hold, stemming his feet against the ground and trying to buck off the men dragging him away. “You won’t get away with this,” he growled, immediately choking on his words when another hand pressed into his broken ribs. His steps faltered, and his knees threatened to buckle. A whimper escaped him, and he felt his strength waning.

They dragged him a few more feet before he was forced to his knees in front of the buyer. Deeks bared his teeth and struggled against the hold they had on him. The sounds were spiking, and his vision kept fading in and out, but he could not give in now. 

Bright lights suddenly flooded the area. Deeks whimpered in pain, closing his eyes against the sudden blindness. He heard gunshots being fired the hands holding him tightly abruptly lost their grip. He lost his balance and fell to the ground hard, grunting at the impact. 

The chaotic sounds of a gunfight filled his ears, interspersed with loud voices coming from all directions. Deeks squinted against the light, unsure of what was happening. He tried to roll to his knees, knowing that he had to get away. But his legs finally gave out on him, immediately buckling under his weight again. Pain exploded in his whole body when he tried to break his fall with his broken arm. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

\---

For the second time in two days he woke to the sounds and smells of a hospital. Without opening his eyes, he assessed his situation. The last thing he remembered was being sold off to who knows where, he remembered the pain and then nothing. Keeping his breathing even, he catalogued the dull feelings in his head, ribs and arm. Pain was at the edge of his awareness, reminding him that he wasn’t a hundred percent, but without incapacitating him. Not the good drugs then.

His thoughts felt fuzzy and disconnected and came to a complete stop when something rustled to his side, too close for comfort. His eyes snapped open and his arms came up in defence, while he shot up into a sitting position. He felt his good hand connect with something solid, before his brain had even caught up with what he was seeing. He followed the soft groan with wild eyes, ready to fight, but the stranger had his hands already raised in a placating gesture.

“Sorry, man, I didn’t want to spook you.”

Deeks blinked in confusion, adrenaline coursing through his system. His eyes roamed over the room. To his surprise it was full of strangers lounging in the chairs provided by the hospital. They all looked alarmed but started to laugh only a moment later at the disgruntled look of the man beside Deeks.

“Welcome back, Mister Deeks.” His eyes snapped to the familiar voice, landing on Hetty. She smiled tightly, and all the tension left his posture. He let himself fall back onto the bed with a groan, his muscles shaking as the adrenaline slowly left his system. He dragged his good hand over his face, taking a deep breath, before facing his visitors once more.

“Uhm…hi? What happened?“

“Thompson moved much faster than we anticipated, but we caught up with you in time.” The one he had just hit answered with a small smile on his face.

“Oh, so you’re the highly professional backup team. Next time maybe don’t show just how professional you are in cutting it this close.” Deeks grinned and let relief wash over him, taking a closer look at the others, before his eyes landed on Hetty once more.

“It was unfortunate what happened, but I meant what I said, when I told you to trust us. We had eyes on him the whole time,” she said without being prompted.

“Thank you.”

“Can we keep him, Hetty? I want to keep him.” 

Deeks just stared dumbfounded and the room filled with laughter again. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Jo for brainstorming with me and reading my stuff for all kinds of weird mistakes. <3


End file.
